Midnight (McKenna Chronicles Book 1) (6 page)

I
find this odd. Why would I roll up to Evan if John is my boss?

“John’s
forte lies with printed campaign material; new technology and social media
aren’t his strong suit, so Colin and I will manage that side of the
advertising. Is there anything you need before beginning?”

“No
thanks. I’ll be sure to let you know if I do.”

“Good,
and Charlie?” he adds with an easy grin. I don’t say anything, waiting for him
to continue. “I’m glad you’re here. You’re a perfect addition to the team.”

“Thanks,
Evan. I’m glad to be here too.” I realize when I say it that it’s the truth.

~

Evan
hands me off to Sally for a tour of the building and introductions to everyone
working on the campaign. I spend the first half of the day in finance. Tim is
the lead, and he provides a detailed overview of campaign funds as per Colin’s
directive. He sets me up with open access to everything and anything I want to
look at. I review his finances, donations, gifts and personal wealth. Colin has
a wide range of supporters funding his campaign, and he's very circumspect on
how he spends their donations. He’s frugal, accounting for every penny;
anything of a personal nature is paid for out of his own bank account. I almost
fell out of my chair when I read he’s flying the country in his own plane, and
that the finances supporting the jet are accounted for out of his astounding
wealth. He wasn’t lying about his success. He has more money than the state of
Michigan. I laugh thinking about it, because it’s not much of an exaggeration.

At
quarter to one, Tim knocks on the door to my borrowed office. “Want to eat? We
had lunch brought in from a deli.” His smile is kind and maybe a little
hopeful.

“Sure,
thanks,” I agree, hoping the ‘
we’
in his sentence is accurate. Sally,
Molly and a few others are already eating when Tim and I step into the
conference-turned-lunch-room. They’re all very nice, and I’m immediately
comfortable with the whole group. Sally and Molly like to gossip, providing
more information on Colin than I’ve learned thus far, yet the truth of the
information remains to be seen.

“Charlie,
did you know John Montgomery is Colin’s father-in-law?” Sally says in a low,
conspiring tone.

I
shake my head, no, surprised to learn Colin is so closely connected with his
wife’s family.

“Have
you met Ella yet?” Molly is indignant, one corner of her mouth lifts as if she
has tasted something unpleasant.

I
laugh. “No, I haven’t, at least I don’t think so. Who is she?”

“You
would remember if you did; she constantly looks pissed off. She’s John’s daughter,
Colin’s sister-in-law.”

“In
that case, I may know who she is.” I’m remembering the pretty blond woman who
gave me a nasty look at the press conference. I describe her to Molly and
Sally.

“That’s
Ella. Stay away from her, Charlie; she’s nasty business. Rumor has it Colin was
dating Ella, and dumped her when he met her hot sister,” Sally chimes in,
shaking her head.

My
eyes grow wide. “Really? Why does she work for him, then? I mean, I wouldn't
want to constantly be around an ex that dumped me for my sister. That would
suck.”

They
both laugh, but Molly responds, “Yeah, it does suck, and that’s why she’s so
mad all the time. I think she hopes one day he’ll change his mind and get back
with her. Honestly, she was probably happy when her sister died; wouldn’t
surprise me if she didn’t mourn for her niece, either.”

“What?”

“You
didn’t know?” Molly’s face falls sadly. “His baby died in the car accident
too.”

I
put my hand over my heart and close my eyes. “That’s so heartbreaking. How long
ago did they die?”

“Five
years ago.”

Sally
changes the direction of our conversation, expanding more on the Montgomerys.
“Apparently John has been pushing Colin in this direction for as long he’s
known their family. Even after Colin’s wife died, John stayed tight with Colin
to push him into the White House, planning the timeline, helping him get voted
into the Senate. I’ve heard he’s extremely loyal to Colin, and on some level
ruthless in his tactics to ensure he’s elected.”

When
I ask what they mean neither go into detail, so I let it go.

~

After
lunch I meet with Sally and Matt, who work in the communications division with
John. I’m amazed by all of the media workings of a massive campaign, and
surprised at the confidence Colin has in my talent. It’s startling to think of
the massive responsibility and undertaking I’ve agreed to, given the last
president was said to take over his competitor in the polls with advanced
Internet communications. Colin’s will have to be better, more in-depth, and at
the same time honest and easy to use to garner the same or more participation
than prior campaigns.

Late
in the afternoon, Tim is leaning over the back of my chair, pointing out
directions to correct a programming error on my computer.
Out of nowhere my skin tingles, the
hair at the very nape of my neck bristles and I'm compelled look up.
Directly
across the large open meeting space is Colin. He’s wearing his usual white
shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows and the collar open, casually tucked into
black dress pants that fit his frame perfectly. His eyes focus on me,
unwavering as he stands just outside of the office door. My heart stops, yet my
blood rushes into my head, causing a loud pulse to pound behind my ears. Tim’s
lecture becomes a monotone of useless information. Colin doesn’t move, and he
doesn’t make any inflection to acknowledge me; his brilliant blue eyes dark,
his face unreadable. His gaze flicks quickly to Tim, who’s hovering over my
shoulder, continuing to address my computer concerns, oblivious to the change
in the atmosphere.

I
wave a greeting, but Colin moves into Evan’s office without acknowledging me,
slamming the door behind him. The sound reverberates through the room and my
heart falls, disappointed by his reaction or lack thereof.

Tim
leaves to finish his work for the day and I find myself distracted, constantly
looking up as people walk by my office and out the door. I try my hardest to
forget Colin’s in the building; it shouldn’t change anything. I shouldn’t
expect a special reception. Finally, just before six Evan’s door opens and the
deep timbre of Colin’s voice resonates throughout the office. He's stern and
all business as he finalizes directions to Evan. My head rises automatically,
only to watch him stride out the door with a purposeful gait, leaving without a
glance in my direction. My heart drops involuntarily. Dipping my head behind
the computer monitor, I hide my hurt, berating myself for the absurdity of it.
What did I think he would do? I’m clueless about men and in my naiveté I
thought we had some sort of connection.

“Charlie?”

“Ahh,”
I scream and my hand flies up to cover my chest. “Evan, you scared the shit out
of me.”

He
chuckles. “Sorry, I thought you saw me coming.”

I
shake my head no, letting my heart begin to beat again.

“Why
are you working so late? You should go.”

“There’s
nothing to go home to; living out of a hotel this week, remember?” After it’s
said, I hear how pathetic the statement rings. I try to redirect quickly. “I
want to finish something up and then I’ll go. Will you be back tomorrow?” I
ask, hating that I sound hopeful, similar to Tim’s lunch invitation.

“In
the morning, we’re leaving tomorrow afternoon and then we’ll be back at the end
of the week.”

“Oh,
okay. Well, I’ll see you in the morning then.”

He
begins to turn toward the door, stopping when he's only halfway, hand resting
on the knob. “I have plans, otherwise I’d . . .”

I
cut him off before he can finish. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. I brought a
good book to read. Go have fun.” I try to sound confident; after all, I’m very
used to being alone.

Staring
at his hand, he quickly glances at me and back away. Not waiting for him to say
anything more, I motion him out the door with my hands. “Go. Have fun. I’ll see
you tomorrow.”

~

Stifling
a yawn, I hope a third cup of coffee will effectively help keep my eyes open. I
slept poorly last night, the unfamiliar hotel room and lumpy bed a perfect
recipe for an entirely sleepless night. That and thoughts of Colin McKenna’s
blank stare. I shake my head, hoping the motion will shake thoughts of him away
with it. I obviously misread him those first couple of times we met, the
shivers of electricity I felt a product of my imagination. Frowning, I stir the
sweetener and cream in my coffee, disheartened by the monumental miscalculation
on my part.

Lost
in thought, I walk out of the kitchenette, lifting the cup to my mouth.
Stepping outside of the door, I’m bulldozed by Ella Montgomery as she rounds
the corner. She’s shorter than I am by at least a few inches, but her hands are
positioned perfectly to push her arms out in response to my surprise
appearance, launching the mug out of my grip. Hot coffee splatters over the
wall, the mug shattering spectacularly into a hundred pieces as it hits the
floor.

“What
the . . .?” The shrill pitch of her words falls off as she focuses on me.
Quickly glancing over my frame and back to my face and hair, her eyes narrow
during her perusal. Ella’s body stiffens, face flushing an angry red. “I
suggest you watch where you’re going,” she says with pure venom.

“I’m
sorry,” I whisper, “I didn’t see you.”

“Let
me put this in simple terms; terms you will understand. Stay away from me, and
stay away from Colin. Do you understand?”

I
can’t move, nor can I respond. The venom has reached her eyes and they bulge
like the reptile she is.

“Are
you dull?” she snaps her fingers in front of my face. “I’ll repeat it, so your
simple mind can make sense of simple speech. Stay away from Colin.” Her small
frame rises until she's inches away from my face. I stumble back a step as the
hair at the nape of my neck bristles. “You have no business being here and you
certainly don’t have any with him. I don’t know you and I have no desire to. If
it were up to me you wouldn’t be here, so don’t apologize. Clean up your damn
mess and get back to work.” She spins on her short heels and walks to a door on
the opposite side of the building.

I
look around quickly, noticing there are a few people staring in my direction.
One of them is Molly, who rushes over. “I told you she’s a crazy bitch.”

Laughing,
I’m grateful for her help as we clean up the mess together.

“I
had no idea you were being so literal. Does Ms. Bitchy treat everyone like
that?”

“For
the most part, yes; you got an extra dose because you’re going to travel with
Colin so much over the next few months. She’s probably boiling with jealousy.”

I
try to giggle, but it sounds off. “She doesn’t have anything to worry about
there.” I’m beginning to pick up the pieces of the fractured mug, loosely
placing the shards in my left hand.

“Be
careful, Charlie, those pieces are really sharp. Let me get the broom to sweep
them up.” I watch Molly distractedly, listening to the nearing voices of Evan
and Colin as they round the corner to the break room. Forgetting about the
broken glass I unconsciously drop it against my thigh, clasping my fingers
around the contents and turning quickly so Colin doesn’t see me. “Ahh,” I gasp
and wince as the shards slice through the pad of my palm. Oh, shit.

I
walk over to the sink to rinse away the dripping blood. Turning on the water, I
grimace from the sting when the stream hits the open wound. The room blurs in
and out of focus as if it’s reflected in a fun-house mirror at the sight of the
diluted blood flowing down the drain. Closing my eyes, I let the water wash over
my hand, trying to forget the burn, and that Colin is just outside of the room.
I lean heavily onto the counter to hold my weight; I don’t do blood well. Sweat
dews on my forehead and I fear the faint that’s slowly coming on.

“Charlie?”
Colin’s tone is anxious, growing louder as he nears me. “What happened?” I feel
the draw, the electricity vibrating between us. His breath is hot against my
ear as he hovers over my shoulder, looking at the sink and my injury. Flipping
my hand over, the only sound in the room is his sharp intake of breath. I
squeeze my eyes shut so I don’t see the blood, but it’s too late; the room
sways behind my closed eyes as if I’m on a raft riding large swells in the
middle of the ocean.

He
grabs a clean towel from a drawer, wrapping it tightly around my hand. “Can you
walk?” I snap my eyes open, immediately regretting it when Colin’s beautiful
face zooms into focus and then out.

“Yes,
I think so. I don’t like blood.”

“I
can see that. You look like you don’t have any left in your body, you’re so
pale.” Wrapping his arm around my waist, he holds most of my bodyweight as the
lightheadedness worsens. For a moment I take refuge in his heat, leaning into
his chest and imagining for just a second he feels the same magnetic pull I
feel to him. His arm and hand burn at the site where they connect with my body;
it’s as if he wields a concupiscent sword piercing not just my flesh, but my
heart as well. Colin leads me into his spacious office, filled with angular
modern furniture.

“Sit.
Give me a minute to get the emergency kit.” His voice is tense as he guides my
frame onto a surprisingly comfortable couch. I close my eyes and lean my head
back against the cushion, wincing at the slightest movement of my hand against
the towel.

Just
as I relax, a prickling feeling, a flutter of knowledge, prompts me to open my
eyes. When I do, Colin is staring from the doorway, watching me. A silent
moment passes, my gaze held captive by his. I search for something witty to
say, anything to break the tension, but he does it by walking quickly to my
side. Sliding gracefully down to sit next to me, he places the first-aid kit on
the coffee table.